Faunoe o fatuoe
by Nightchaser
Summary: Stiles has always been the vulnerable one, the weak one, the human one of the pack. That is until a chance encounter with a terrifying supernatural beast brings out something dark and powerful inside him. Derek/Stiles SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Stiles was sick of running for his life. It seemed like all his free time since Scott had got the bite, and bloody Derek Hale had brooded his way into their lives, was taken up with running from unimaginable horrors. Seriously at this rate he was going to end up owning stocks in Nike.

Crashing through some low lying branches, he couldn't stop the shriek that burst from his throat when his hoodie got caught and he was thrown backwards like a rag doll. Spinning around in tight circles, he waved his arms around until he heard the branch snap and he unceremoniously crashed to the ground. He stayed there for several long moments using his pathetic human hearing to listen out for anyone approaching, but the woods were quiet. Too quiet if he was honest. Somewhere out there was a pack of werewolves chasing a swamp monster, one would have expected there to be more noise. Well at least some howling, there seemed to be a significant absence of howling going on. Not that Stiles minded right in that moment since he neither wanted a swamp monster to sneak up on him, nor would he have wanted someone to see his ungainly escape attempt from the tree.

Ok he didn't want Lydia to have seen it, he'd never live it down.

After taking some time out to catch his breath, Stiles pushed off from the mud and took off at a less frantic pace further into the woods. He just knew he was going to get lost here, after all he had never really known his way around the thick woodlands that surrounded Beacon Hills and in his panic he hadn't really been paying attention to where he was going. Leaning against a nearby tree he pulled his cellphone from his pocket, covering the screen with his hand to stop the light attracting unwanted attention. No reception, what a surprise. This whole thing was playing out like a B grade horror film and unfortunately Stiles was playing the role of tragic heroine.

"I'm going to die." His words were whispered but still sounded loud in the silence of the woods. "Some old man walking a dog is going to find my corpse six months from now."

He could see if now, the newspaper headlines reading 'missing teen found dead just seconds away from civilization'. He wondered if ghosts could blush, either way he was going to haunt Scott for the rest of his long immortal life. He was going to be Spike to Scott's Angel, after all it was his fault Stiles was out here in the first place and not at home eating Ben & Jerry's from the tub and watching shark week.

If Stiles missed shark week he was going to haunt the whole Beacon Hills pack for the rest of eternity.

This was ridiculous, he had to find his way out of these woods or at least find someone friendly who could help him. Pushing his phone back into his jeans pocket he stepped away from the tree, giving out a manly shriek when he foot sunk into the mud and he had to cartwheel his arms desperately to stop going face first into the slush. Once he had steadied himself he took three steps into the darkness only to walk smack into what felt like another tree.

Huh ... he hadn't seen a tree there in the dull light coming from his phone screen. Reaching out his hand came into contact with something hard, something hard covered in what felt like leather and before his brain was even able to process that fact he was picked up by his throat and pressed into the tree he had just been hiding behind. His feet weren't even touching the ground, and he could feel someone's breath on his face and a warm body against his. Well there was only one person who would pick him up by his throat and throw him into trees all while ignoring personal boundaries.

"Derek." His voice came out strangled, which wasn't a surprise since he was being … well … strangled. "Man am I glad to see you."

"What are you doing?" Ah so Derek was half wolfed out if his voice was any indication, his words tended to go muffled when his teeth came in. "I thought I told you to hide."

"Yes well …" Stiles waved his hands in a way that he hoped would convey his feeling of panic and desperation at the time the swamp monster attacked, however it wasn't an easy feat seeing as he had six feet of alpha werewolf all up in his grill. "You know how it is."

"No," said Derek, and Stiles swore he could see the man's eyes flash red in the darkness. "I don't."

At that the pressure eased off of his windpipe and Derek let him slide down the tree trunk and find his feet. He didn't back away though and in fact Stiles found himself crowded even moreso against the tree, one of Derek's ridiculously rock hard thighs pressed between his own as he leaned forwards to look around the trunk.

He was seventeen, bisexual, and the adrenalin rush he was going through right now was very real, Stiles refused to take the blame for anything his body decided to do right in that moment. Taking several deep breaths through his nose he closed his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that one of the hottest people in Beacon Hills, hell California, was pressed up against certain parts of his anatomy.

"Will you stop panting," hissed Derek. "You're going to get us killed."

"Sorry man, not all of us can be as fit as Usain Bolt," he answered.

There was no answer to that, not that Stiles had been expecting one. It felt like they were stood there like that for hours, with Stiles trying desperately not to breathe to heavily and Derek pressing him into the tree, his breath damp on Stiles's neck and his hands painfully close to his hips. It was an incredibly humiliating experience, though all in all Derek was being a trooper about ignoring the fact that Stiles Junior was poking him in the thigh. Thank goodness for stoicism.

"Ok we can go." Derek stepped back at him, but just as Stiles was letting out a sigh of relief a ridiculously large hand wrapped around his wrist and he was dragged back through the undercover in the direction he had come from.

"Derek there's a swamp beast thing down this way." He tried to pull his wrist out of the werewolf's grasp but he just wasn't strong enough, and finally he just let himself go limp and be dragged around. "You better not be planning on using me as bait."

"You're useless as bait," said Derek, not even bothering to turn around to look at him in the moonlight. "You just get yourself lost."

"I was not …" Derek glared at him over his shoulder at those words. "... Ok I was a bit lost."

Not another word was spoken after that as Derek continued to drag him through the woods, and it was as what felt like hours passed Stiles realised just how far he had run. Under normal circumstances that would be cause for celebration at the thought that his stamina had improved so much over the last year or so. However now if just sent a shiver of fear down his spine at the idea he had been so off track, man nobody would have found him out here.

"Make that a lot lost," he muttered.

He must have zoned out at that point however, because when Derek suddenly stopped in the middle of a clearing leaving Stiles with no choice but to collide with his broad leather clad back. Moonlight was streaming into the clearing, though thankfully it wasn't a full moon of this whole situation would have played out very differently. The werewolf was standing tall, head tipped back towards the moon, and his eyes closed as he took three very long deliberate sniffs of the early morning air. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he stared over at the tree line to their left.

"It's here."

At that moment something stepped out of the dark. It was humanoid in shape, but its arms and legs were long and spindly.

"Oh my God." Stiles slapped his free hand over his nose and mouth. "It smells like a septic tank."

Derek didn't seem to even hear him, instead he moved to stand in front of him, legs apart and hands clenched into fists against his denim clad thighs. Under any other circumstance Stiles would have appreciated the way his ass fitted in those jeans, but the threat of impending death was a pretty could libido deterrent.

"I'm going to be eaten by a swamp beast." Stiles pressed his forehead against Derek's back, deciding that if these were his final moments he might as well go pressed up against a hottie. "Who's going to tell my dad. Oh God Derek don't tell him it was a swamp beast, tell him it was Dracula or the Predator or something."

"Predator?" muttered Derek. "That's not even real."

"I'm about to die, I'm not exactly thinking on all cylinders here."

It was then that Derek's legs seemed to give way beneath him and he fell to the ground with a thump, his eyes shining red and a growl rising from his throat. Leaving Stiles standing there completely vulnerable facing a very pissed off swamp beast who was standing _right in front of him!_ Giving a hiss it blinked its huge reptilian eyes and then reached one many clawed hand out to Stiles …

… and then the entire clearing exploded in bright blue light, blinding Stiles and making him throw his arms over his face as he yelled in terror. Once the light had subsided he slowly lowered his arms, blinking rapidly against the multi-coloured blurs that filled his vision, to see that the swamp beast was nothing more than a splatter of green goo on the grass.

"What. The. Hell. Was .That?" Derek, who was still laying at his feet, each word ground out between panting breaths as he glared up at Stiles.

"I …" Stiles looked down at him in shock. "I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

"Birthday donuts."

Stiles was half tempted to just slam the door shut in Scott's face when the filthy traitor showed up the next morning, but there was something about the kicked puppy look he was sporting which stopped him. The fact that he was holding a box of donuts, still warm if the condensation on the clear plastic lid was anything to go off of, however stayed his hand.

"You're a filthy traitor." He took a step back anyway and gestured for his now former best friend to enter.

"But I bought birthday donuts."

Snatching said donuts from Scott's filthy traitorous hands, Stiles walked into the kitchen and deposited them on the counter.

"You left me to die." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter, making sure to give Scott his dirtiest look. "You left me to die with Derek Hale."

Scott rolled his eyes before reaching around him to grab one of the donuts from the box. "You mean the Derek Hale that absolutely reeks of you this morning?"

"Well of course he does." Stiles watched as Scott wiped the powdered sugar from his chin. "He spent most of last night throwing me into trees."

A smirk stole onto Scott's face. "Oh did he?"

"Not like that, asshole."

For several long moments they stood in the Stilinski family kitchen eating donuts in comfortable silence, before Scott started shuffling his feet and looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"So," he said, wiping his hands on his shirt leaving streaks of powdered sugar in their wake. "You made a swamp thing explode."

Well that was clearly insanity, the exploding swamp beast had had nothing to do with him. In fact he had been the one cowering like the scaredy cat that he was while Derek had probably glared the monster to death. In fact …

"Do you think Derek can actually kill things with the power of his mind?"

"No." Scott shook his head. "If he could you'd be dead and buried by now."

Stiles poked his best friend in his ridiculously toned chest, and just when had that happened? "Well that's true."

"And there's nothing going on?" Scott's voice was pitched low.

"Going on?" Stiles stared at him in shock. "Like what?"

"With Derek."

It took a disturbingly long time for Stiles' brain to catch onto what Scott was trying to ask him, and when it finally did he reeled back in horror clutching a hand to his chest.

"Are you trying to ask if I am engaging in hot man on man sexing with tall dark and broody?" he asked. "Because that's certainly what it sounds like."

"Well are you?"

He couldn't help but burst out laughing despite the fact that Scott's cheeks were bright red and he was quite clearly embarrassed about even asking something like this, which was frankly ridiculous because they'd shared pretty much everything about their lives with each other up til that point. The fact that Scott would be so scared about asking if Stiles had sexed up his werewolf leader was hilarious.

"No of course I'm not," he answered.

"It's just that he smelled like you."

It was like the man had turned into a broken record.

"I thought we'd already discussed this, he was slamming me into trees most of the night being all growly."

Scott started fidgeting again, playing with the streaks of sugar on his shirt. "It wasn't that, it was like …" He ran his fingers through his ridiculously floppy hair. "You had scented him or something."

"Scented?" In the back of his mind swam a memory from a documentary he had watched on Animal Planet about wolves the week before. "Like a wolf pack?"

"I don't know if you've noticed but we are a wolf pack," said Scott.

"Werewolves, you're werewolves. Hell ,Scott, you're the one who keeps making that distinction." He placed his hands on the counter and leaned over the sink. "And anyway I'm human aren't I? I can't be pack."

Stiles was dragged from a strange dream about dew drops and singing by the sensation that someone was watching him. Since there was only one person who would climb into his bedroom at … he glanced over at his digital clock … two in the morning, he knew exactly who it was.

"Derek." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before sitting up. "It's the middle of the night, can we wait to go after the latest Big Bad until at least eight?" He yawned. "Maybe ten?"

There was a large shadow amongst all the other shadows near the wall by his open window.

"Are you actually going to say anything or just crouch there in the shadows like some sort of sexual predator?" he asked.

Reaching over to his bedside table, Stiles hit his touch controlled lamp and blinked as the soft light filled his bedroom illuminating the werewolf sat in the corner with his long legs stretched out in front of him. Derek had his head tipped back against the wall and his eyes were closed, it gave a fantastic view of his long pale throat and Stiles had to swallow against the lump that had suddenly formed in his. God nobody should be allowed to be that attractive. If it wasn't for the way his fingers were tapping restlessly against his thighs, Stiles would have thought he was asleep.

"How did you do it?" Derek's voice was rough, well rougher than usually, and he resolutely kept his eyes shut.

It was far too early in the morning for cryptic questions, and with a groan Stiles swung his legs out of the bed and stood unsteadily on them. "What do you want Derek?" It also appeared to be too early for snarky comebacks.

"I want to know how you did it." This time when Stiles looked over at him, Derek's eyes were open and he was staring at him.

"How I did what exactly?" Oh god he could only hope that this wasn't about the untimely erection and almost humping of thighs.

There was only the sound of silence filling the room and for a wild moment Stiles thought that Derek had thrown himself out of the window, and it was only when he looked back to the corner and saw the huge leather clad bulk still there that he realized that stare had taken on a new intensity. An intensity that took the breath from his lungs.

"The monster, Stiles." With that Derek got to his feet with a grace that he could only envy. "How did you kill the monster?"

With each word Derek stalked another step closer to him until he was towering over Stiles, that intense gaze now directed on him at close proximity and Stiles thought that he was going to burst into flames.

"I didn't do anything to the monster." He tried to take a step back but the back of his knees hit the mattress and he ended up doing that stupid cartwheel move that was becoming embarrassing familiar. This time however he had Derek there to catch him, strong arms gripping his waist and pulling him forwards until he collided with that painfully solid chest.

"You glowed." Derek's voice was pitched low and Stiles swore that he could feel it reverberate in the man's chest. "You glowed blue and the monster exploded."

"Did you hit your head or something?" demanded Stiles. "Because that's not how I remember things."

"What's going on with you Stiles?"

It didn't escape Stiles' attention that Derek's hands were still resting on his waist, and he was practically resting his head on the man's pecs. It was also then that a thought hit him out of nowhere, werewolves could smell lust. Oh god he must be stinking up the room right now.

"Nothing is going on with me." His words were muffled into Derek's skin tight black shirt. "And what's with you anyway? Scott says you smell like I've scented you or something."

Derek dropped him so quickly at that that Stiles fell backwards onto the bed with Derek standing above him, nostrils flaring and hands clenching.

"Pack meeting tomorrow at four." Derek started backing up towards the window. "Make sure you're there."

And with that he all but floated out of the window, and by the time Stiles had shook some sense into himself and gone to look outside there wasn't a werewolf in sight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"One night." Stiles rested his forehead against the cool metal of his locker door and closed his eyes against the flourescent lights and hustle of the hall. "I just want one night of uninterrupted sleep."

Scott was standing next to him, arms folded across his chest and one foot propped up against the lockers. Seriously when had his best friend become so cool? It was just two years since Peter had bit him and turned him into a beast of the night and all that, surely coolness wasn't just something that came instinctively to werewolves. No it couldn't be, Isaac was a werewolf after all.

"You didn't sleep last night?" he asked.

"It's kind of hard to when you've got a werewolf in your bedroom growling at you."

The moment the words were out of his mouth Stiles regretted them because Scott's head whipped round to look at him and his bottom jaw dropped open.

"Derek?" he hissed. "You had Derek in your bedroom last night."

With a groan Stiles moved so that his back was against the lockers and he could look over at Scott. "Oh please don't act surprised it's not like it's the first time."

Scott's eyebrows rose so high that they practically disappeared into his hairline.

"You know full well that he's been in my bedroom before," said Stiles.

"Yes well that was before …" Scott tapered off and his shoes suddenly became extremely interesting.

"Before what?" demanded Stiles.

"Before you started smelling like each other."

Letting out a loud groan, Stiles pushed away from the lockers. "We do not smell like each other." Scott stared at him again and gave him the eyebrow of doom. "Ok but it's not because anything is going on between us."

"Ok." Scott reached forwards and patted him on the shoulder. "I just don't …"

He seemed to come over all awkward again with his eyes darting everywhere so that he didn't have to look at Stiles. Oh now this was just too precious, was big bad Scott all worried that his best buddy was going to get his heart broken? Well thankfully for the both of them Stiles wasn't stupid enough to just give his heart away to anyone who looked at him twice, well not since Lydia anyway. There was no way that he was going to start holding a torch for Derek bloody Hale of all people.

"Where's Allison?"

Scott's eyes immediately clouded over at the mention of his lady love and Stiles hated that he had to stoop so low just to change the direction of the conversation.

"She's at the library studying," he said, all but swaying on his feet at the mere thought of Allison.

It was sickening really and Stiles could only hope that he never got like this over anyone. "Are you going to join her?"

"Yeah." Scott sounded drugged as he started walking away. "I think I will."

Letting out another groan Stiles ran his fingers through his short hair and shuffled off in the other direction. It suddenly occurred to him that if Scott and Allison were 'studying' in the library they might miss the pack meeting, not that Stiles was going to chase after him and bring it up. He did not want to get stuck talking about Derek again.

Making his way out of the school, Stiles climbed into his Jeep and placed his head on the steering wheel. He just needed a quick five minute nap and then he would be OK. Except it wasn't five minutes, and by the time he was awoken by one of the teacher's car alarms going off it was ten to four. There was absolutely no way he would make it to the Hale house in ten minutes, Derek was going to kill him, quite literally.

"Shit."

He quickly pulled out of the parking bay and put his foot down. At this rate one of two things was going to happen, either he was going to wrap his Jeep around a tree and kill himself, or his dad was going to pull him over for speeding and kill him. Either way he was dead.

Luckily the drive through Beacon Hills was uneventful, well except for a few heart stopping moments when he lost control and mounted the curb, and he skidded to a stop in front of the Hale house. Jumping out of the Jeep he all but ran up the steps to the porch, only to be stopped by the image of Derek himself standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

"I thought I told you four o'clock," he said.

"Look I'm sorry man." Stiles tried to brush past him, only to find Derek sidestepped and he bounced straight off of him. "Car trouble."

"You were asleep."

That brought Stiles to a complete stop just inside the doorway, surrounded by the empty paint cans and the brand new hall stand that Erica had dragged in sometime last week. So it looked like the renovations were coming along.

"What?" Stiles tried to lean nonchalantly against the wall before remembering that Derek had just painted this room and the walls could still be wet. Hell the man still had a streak of lavender coloured paint on his black shirt, and wasn't that hilarious? Broody, dark, violent Derek Hale had painted his front hall a pale shade of lavender. "What are you talking about?"

"I can smell it on you." With that Derek turned and stomped down the hall towards the main living area.

"Hang on what?" Stiles hurried to catch up with him. "You can smell when I've been sleeping? Do you freelance as Santa in your spare time?"

Unfortunately he spoke that last part just as they entered the living room, only to find that the entire pack was already sat there in silence staring at them. It was when he saw that Scott's eyebrows had once again disappeared up into his hairline that he realized that they had heard every single word. Oh God of course they had heard everything they were Werewolves, and other various supernatural creatures.

"Sit," growled Derek, and when Stiles just continued standing there in the doorway gaping at him like a beached fish he stalked forwards to loom over him. " _Sit_."

Almost against his will Stiles sat down heavily on the floor next to Isaac who immediately passed him one of the brand new scatter cushions that had appeared all over Derek's house, with a grin Stiles took it and shoved it under his butt. Seriously why did Derek have to fix up the hardwood floors instead of putting down some nice plush carpet? Stiles' ass was going to end up bruised at this rate. Oh God that was a thought that brought heat to his cheeks, the idea of having a bruised ass in Derek's house brought forth all sorts of dirty images.

This was getting out of hand.

"So." Lydia drew out the word even as she leaned back against her elbows, and once upon a time Stiles would have been drawn to the shine of her hair and the swell of her breasts. "Why are we here?"

Now however he could rationally see that she was incredibly pretty but it didn't seem to do anything for his teenage libido. Oh no his hormones appeared to be completely caught up in the man standing in front of them with his hands on his hips and a look on his face that he was about to start swinging if anyone said the wrong thing. Really someone had to get him into anger management classes.

"We are here because of Stiles," said Derek.

This dragged Stiles from the silent appreciation that he had been giving to the way that the Alpha's biceps were bulging in the tight black t-shirt he was wearing, to stare up at him in horror. "Huh? What about me?"

Some part of his mind immediately went into panic mode, the constant cycle of _this is where they decide to eat you_ going round and round in his head even as he tried to figure out if he would make it to the front door before being caught. He would hate to get blood on Derek's new scatter cushions.

"Is this about him making that swamp beast explode?" asked Boyd, and Stiles turned to glare at him.

It seemed like he was surrounded by traitors everywhere.

"I didn't make it explode." He waved his hands in the air expressively, nearly smacking Erica in the face as he did so. "It just … exploded. I had nothing to do with it."

"Have you made things explode before?" asked Derek.

"No of course not."

"Are you sure you didn't just forget?"

Stiles turned to Isaac then. "Yes I completely forgot about all those other monsters I've made explode."

"Really?" Seriously Scott wasn't usually this stupid.

"No!" He couldn't help ripping the cushion out from under him and lobbing it at his best friend. "You've known me forever dude, like I could keep something like that from you."

Scott muttered something at that which made the other werewolves smirk, well all except Derek who looked like he was going to demonstrate just how an Alpha would rip the throat out of another werewolf with minimal effort.

"So this was the first time something like this has happened?" demanded Derek.

"Do you mean is this the first time I've been blinded by some strange blue light that made a monster explode, then yes this is the first time something like this has happened."

"Stiles."

There was a warning tone to Derek's voice, but Stiles had never been good at heeding warnings especially those given by the Alpha.

"Derek it wasn't me!" He couldn't help the way his voice went high pitched, and he was sure that under any other circumstances he would have been humiliated, but something inside him was desperate to prove that he hadn't done this. "You know me, when have I ever given any sort of impression that I could kill monsters with the power of my mind?"

For a moment everyone was quiet until Allison, who had smartly decided to stay silent up til that point from where she was sitting on the other side of Scott, spoke up. "Well it's not like magical powers and brain power have any sort of connection."

"Thanks Allison," he muttered.

"I know what I saw," growled Derek. "And what I saw was Stiles glow blue and then the monster exploding."

He was sure that he would have noticed if he had glowed bright blue, he certainly would have noticed if he had killed something.

"So what could have made Stiles magic?" asked Scott.

"Nothing just makes you magic." Stiles ground the words out, feeling suddenly very agitated.

The wolves around him must have sensed his agitation because they all started shuffling away making small whining sounds in their throats, well all except Derek that was who instead took an aborted step forwards. Just what Stiles needed right now, a Pack of upset werewolves and an Alpha reacting to that emotion. He was going to end up with his throat ripped out.

"He's right," said Lydia. "I looked into it when Derek first mentioned what had happened, and there's nothing that I can find anywhere about suddenly becoming magical. If Stiles did make the monster explode then he's always had that power."

Both Stiles and Scott shook their heads at that.

"I've never noticed anything magical to do with Stiles," said Scott.

"Not even my magical personality?"

The whole Pack seemed to relax the moment those words came out of his mouth, as though they had just been waiting for him to say something to break up the tense atmosphere. Really Stiles should have known better than to let himself get so upset around a Pack of werewolves, they could sense heightened emotion and often reacted badly to it.

"Lydia." Derek turned to the Banshee as he slowly made his way back to the corner he had been standing in. "What about magical powers that show up later in life?"

"You mean like Sabrina?" she asked.

This only seemed to confuse Derek even more. "What?"

"Like powers that present when someone turns a certain age?" asked Erica.

"Yes," said Derek.

"I don't know." Lydia shook her head, her hair falling in her face as she did so. "I haven't looked into it."

"Take Stiles with you." Derek pointed at Stiles. "Now the rest of you …"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

One thing that Stiles had noticed with the coming of his seventeenth birthday was that he appeared to be tired all the time. At first he had been able to write it off as nothing more than exhaustion from chasing monsters at night, or the occasional werewolf interrupting his sleep at all hours. It had been over a week now since he had been subjected to either and he still felt as though he could sleep for the next 48 hours easily.

"Maybe we should take you to the doctor." His father looked up from his plate, his face creased in concern as he looked at Stiles. "You don't look good."

Stiles frowned at him before shoveling another mouthful of rice into his mouth. There was absolutely no way he was going for a check-up, he didn't need his the doctor overreacting to the bruises Derek had left on him when he threw him against the tree. The last thing this family needed was a CPS investigation.

"Just a bit tired is all," he answered after swallowing his food. "I was up late last night doing an assignment for history."

His dad didn't look convinced but he didn't say another word about it, and for several long minutes they sat in silence eating the Chinese take-away that filled the table between them. It was when his father started clearing his throat and looking at him sideways that Stiles realized there was something else going on.

"Dad?" He placed his cutlery on his plate and leaned forwards to catch his dad's attention. "What's wrong?"

"Mrs. Johns from down the road stopped me in the supermarket today." His dad placed his own cutlery down and leveled a hard stare in Stiles' direction. "She said she saw a young man leaving your bedroom window in the early hours of the morning last week."

"It was probably Scott." Stiles shrugged his shoulders. "You know how he comes and goes, especially when he's not doing well at school."

There was an awkward silence between them then before his dad shook his head. "She distinctly said it wasn't Scott, it was apparently a man in his mid to late twenties, with dark hair, and a leather jacket."

Stiles heart stopped beating at that, but he still found the strength to smile. "That's oddly specific, did you interrogate her?"

"What was Derek Hale doing in your bedroom at three in the morning Stiles?"

Oh. There was nothing Stiles could say right now that would make this sound even remotely OK, his father was either going to think that his son was banging the town bad boy, or that he was doing drugs or something.

"Well you see dad …" He lowered his eyes and started fidgeting with a loose thread on the sleeve of his plaid shirt. "Its …"

He didn't get to finish his sentence because right at that moment his dad's cell phone started ringing, and his dad quickly got up from the table to answer it.

"I've got to go." His dad walked back into the dining room, grabbed an egg roll off of his plate and started walking towards the front door. "Oh and Stiles, you know I don't know care if you're … you know. It's just that that Hale boy he's got a record, and he's eight years older than you."

"Dad." Stiles pressed a hand to his chest in mock surprise. "Are you telling me that I have your blessing to be gay?"

"Or bisexual, or any of those other … things." Then before Stiles was even able to answer his father had all but fled out of the front door.

A moment later he reappeared with a stony look on his face and a surprisingly awkward Derek trailing behind him.

"Really?" Stiles threw his hands up in the air and leaned back in his seat. "This can't be my life."

"I found this skulking around on the front lawn," said his Dad. "I think it belongs to you."

With that he gave them both a very pointed look.

"Oh no that's not mine." Stiles pointed at Derek only to be silenced by the dark look that was thrown his way. "Never mind."

With one last look at Derek that quite clearly said 'they'll never find your body' his dad stalked from the house and slammed the door, leaving them both staring at each other.

"You dad thinks we're dating." The words were said on a growl as Derek folded his arms across his chest and looked everywhere but at Stiles.

"No." Stiles let out a laugh as he stood up and started cleaning up the takeaway containers. "He thinks we're fucking, I don't think my dad believes you're taking me to the cinema or anything."

That caught Derek's attention, his head snapping around so he could stare at Stiles with wide eyes. "What?"

"You don't need to look so horrified at the idea of fucking me man." Stiles carried his armful of containers to the fridge and started stacking them on the empty shelves. "It's not good for my ego."

He turned around and let out a positively unmanly squeak when he found Derek practically pressed up against his back.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, that intense gaze trying to set fire to Stiles again.

"It's Ok." Stiles patted him on the chest, trying not to obsess over the feel of those pecs beneath his shirt. "I know what you mean."

He was about to duck underneath Derek's arm to continue cleaning up, but the werewolf was faster and before he knew what was happening the hair at the back of his head was clenched in one large fist. It pulled at his scalp, not enough to cause any real pain, but Derek used his superior power to tip Stiles' head backwards and to the side. It was a move that left his throat exposed and Stiles had to swallow down the panic that was rising in him, his lizard brain recognizing that he was in an openly vulnerable position with a creature that could literally rip him limb from limb.

Derek however simply shuffled even closer and then dipped his head so that he could run the bridge of his nose up the slope of Stiles' neck. His breathing picked up and a slight tremor came to his body even as he let his eyes flutter shut.

"You smell different," whispered Derek, his voice surprisingly soft for once.

"According to Scott I smell like you."

"Yes." Derek's spare arm slid around his waist, tipping him backwards so he was leaning against the fridge while the larger man nudged his knees apart and stepped between his thighs. "But your own personal scent is different."

"Ok," answered Stiles. "Is that a problem?"

"Not necessarily." Derek's lips were feather light against the sensitive skin of Stiles' throat. "It just means I have to work harder to scent you."

Scenting. Alright Stiles could probably survive this, especially if it calmed Derek down and stopped the rest of the Pack looking like they thought he was going to spontaneously combust at any moment. On the downside they were probably both going to have to deal with Stiles' inappropriate boner again.

"Ok." His voice came out as nothing more than a whisper.

Derek opened his mouth then, teeth on either side of Stiles' windpipe and for one long moment he stopped breathing as panic once again rose to the surface. However the werewolf didn't bite down and instead started sucking gently on his pulse point. It was a move that caused Stiles to squirm and with a low growl Derek literally lifted him up by his hips and deposited him onto the counter.

"Don't move," he grumbled.

"Nope not moving." Stiles found himself gripped onto those leather clad shoulders for balance. "Not moving a muscle."

Derek grunted then and placed a hand on either one of Stiles' boney knees and pushed them apart rather roughly as he stepped between them. One of his hands pressed against the small of Stiles' back and he felt himself drawn closer to the werewolf, his groin pressed tightly against his rock hard abs. Oh God this couldn't get any more humiliating he thought as his hips automatically twitched so as to rub his erection against Derek. He was dead … so dead.

Except he didn't have his throat ripped out like he was expecting. No instead Derek continued to rub his face against Stiles' neck, the rough bristle of his stubble causing a burning sensation to rise on his skin. Eventually, after what seemed like hours of sexual frustration so intense Stiles felt like crying, Derek lifted his head from his neck. Yet instead of releasing him and stepping away he slid his nose against Stiles' and took his mouth in a kiss that was so gentle that Stiles thought he would crumble beneath it. The werewolf tasted like desperation and Stiles couldn't help but open his mouth on a groan as he found himself closing his eyes and sliding his arms around the other man's neck. It was then that the kiss took on a frantic edge, Derek's hands clutched at him and his kiss became dominating and passionate leaving Stiles unable to do anything but hold on and submit to the raging storm.

Suddenly Derek ripped his mouth from Stiles' and let out a long deep warning growl, it was then that Stile realized they weren't in the kitchen alone any longer.

"Right." Scott's voice filtered around Derek's imposing figure, and Stiles didn't even bother trying to pull away since his best friend had already seen enough to put two and two together. "Well this was unexpected."

"You're telling me," muttered Stiles, his forehead pressed against Derek's shoulder where he'd let it fall.

Derek let out a small whine and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before letting out a deep sigh and disentangling them.

"Look," he said, glancing from one to the other of them. Not that Stiles was paying attention since he was now focusing on the obvious and impressive bulge in those almost skin tight jeans. "I can explain … I think."


	5. Chapter 5

It took a good ten minutes for Stiles to compose himself enough to leave the kitchen and join Scott and Derek in the dining room where they were sat at opposite ends of the table. The atmosphere in the room was tense as Scott glared at Derek, who in turn was glaring at the wall and digging his claws into the wood of the table.

"Can you please not?" Stiles leaned over and grabbed Derek's wrist, pulling the claws from the delicate wood. "My dad will kill me."

At those words the Alpha immediately tensed and Stiles dropped his wrist, backing away before finally dropping into a seat between the two wolves.

"So," said Scott. "You were explaining?"

If it wasn't for the way his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed Stiles would have sworn that Derek hadn't even heard the question since he remained in exactly the same position. Something inside Stiles himself bristled at Scott though, even though he wanted to know where Derek's sudden attraction to him had come from he hated the insinuation of his best friend that he needed to be protected. Just because he had been sexing it up with Allison for two years didn't mean he was suddenly the relationship expert, especially not in this case.

"There's something wrong with Stiles."

That had not what Stiles had been expecting to hear, in fact something along the lines that the great Derek Hale hadn't been able to overlook his sexiness and charms any longer would have been much more appreciated.

"Something wrong with Stiles," muttered Scott. "Is that why you had your tongue down his throat?"

Well that was blatantly untrue.

"Ew dude." Stiles stared at Scott in horror. "There were no throats involved."

"Then why do you have teeth marks in yours?"

Derek's head whipped over to stare at Stiles with wide eyes, and Stiles couldn't help but slap her hand against the left side of his neck that was stinging. He looked quickly from Scott, who was looking disgustingly smug, to Derek who now had an expression on his face like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"You bit me!" Stiles' voice was humiliating high pitched as he jumped out of his chair to consult his reflection in the huge mirror his dad had spent five days last summer hanging in the den. "I can't believe you bit me."

"It's not that kind of bite." Derek's voice rumbled from the dining room.

Gently tracing the bruising around the shallow puncture marks on his neck Stiles flinched at how tender they suddenly felt.

"How do you know?" he yelled back. "Oh God I'm going to go all furry aren't I? My dad's allergic to dogs!"

"You're not turning into a werewolf."

"When's the last time you had a rabies shot?" Stiles jumped when he looked back in the mirror to find Derek right behind him and Scott lounging in the doorway. "Dude you've got to stop doing that."

Derek made a low whining noise in his throat and reached out to press his fingers lightly against the bruises and in the next moment the sting and tenderness had disappeared as very faint grey lines swam up those muscled forearms. When Derek pulled his fingers away the bruising was considerably less but the marks themselves still remained.

"Hey you didn't …" He was about to complain that the Alpha hadn't completed the job when he glanced over at Scott who was shaking his head. "Never mind."

"I've got to go." Derek suddenly pulled himself away from Stiles, his eyes not moving from the crescent of teeth marks in his neck. "I'm …"

He didn't even finish his sentence before turning around and stalking from the room, after a few seconds the front door slammed shut and Stiles was able to take his first deep breath.

"What is going on?" demanded Scott.

"I don't know," whispered Stiles, pressing his fingers against his neck.

Not surprisingly Stiles found it almost impossible to sleep that night, his dreams filled with red eyes, hot kisses, and that same gentle singing that had been ringing in his ears for days now. Taking a deep breath he swung his legs out of the bed and stood up. He just needed some fresh air that was all, so despite the fact that winter was well and truly here he padded across his bedroom to open the window.

The moment he did so a feeling of uneasiness came over him, like he was being watched but it wasn't the same feeling of protectiveness that he got when it was Scott or Derek. Placing his hands against the window frame he leaned out of the window to find that there was a man standing across the street. He looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a plaid shirt and jeans. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and he was looking up at the house, eyes trained straight onto Stiles.

Then as he watched the man smirked at him, turned and walked away into the dark.


	6. Chapter 6

In the end it all came to a head at school, so really nothing new there.

Stiles absently waved goodbye to Scott who was headed towards the bike rack, probably planning on meeting up with Allison somewhere for some hanky panky. He smiled to himself at that, well at least one of them was getting some action. In fact he was thinking about his best friend's sex life so much, and really isn't that pathetic? That he hadn't noticed that there was somebody leaning against his Jeep until he was almost on top of them.

"What do you want?"

He leaned over the man to throw his bag into the backseat of the Jeep, before taking a step back and gesturing for him to get out of the way. It was only then that Stiles actually took a proper look at him. Handsome enough, tall and with the whole bulging muscles thing that everyone in his life seemed to have going on these days, with shaggy blonde hair and something about him that just screamed 'wolf' and Stiles.

"Just wanted to see you," he said. "My name's Brandon."

"And what Pack are you from?" asked Stiles.

A grin split the man's face and his eyes flashed blue. "And how did you know what I was?"

Stiles shrugged. "I've been around werewolves now for long enough to know when I'm being hunted by one."

He glanced around the carpark and grimaced when he noticed that it was full of people, all of them innocents and not a single one being of the furry kind. He was probably going to have to deal with this himself and that wouldn't end well.

"Ah." Brandon nodded. "That would explain why you stink of an Alpha."

Speaking of Alpha's Stiles really wished that Derek was here right now.

"Yes you know Alpha's." He tried not to fidget because he knew that was a sign of weakness, though the wolf could probably smell the anxiety on him. "They do like to mark their territory."

Brandon smiled again and stalked forwards, backing Stiles into the Ford Festiva beside them.

"Yes they do," he said. "And if you've been marked as an Alpha's territory that means it's just going to be more difficult for me to get you out of here."

With that he grabbed Stiles' wrist tightly and pulled him forwards, at the same time his eyes narrowed in on Stiles' neck and in a quick lurch he had grabbed his hair and dragged his neck to the side.

"Hey let go grabby hands." He lashed out with his hands, but wasn't surprised when the werewolf didn't so much flinch when he hit him.

"Who has claimed you?" Stiles didn't even need to be able to see the man's face to know he had wolfed out.

"Nobody has claimed me." His own voice sounded thready to his own ears as panic started to rise up in his chest, and he knew that Brandon would be able to hear his heartbeat pounding. "No claiming going on here."

"Then what is this?" Thick fingers pressed painfully against the crescent of teeth marks in his neck.

"None of your business is wha …" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before he was slammed into the Festiva.

"I can still make you mine." Brandon leaned forwards and the next thing Stiles new a wet tongue was licking up his neck from shoulder to ear. He really really hoped that nobody saw this happening or he'd never be able to show his face at school again.

It was as the werewolf opened his mouth to show off his fangs that he was suddenly ripped away from Stiles with such force he went skidding across the bitumen. And there stood Stiles' knight in shining armour panting as though he'd run a marathon and growling angrily.

"Scott man am I glad to see you," he said.

"We need to get out of here." Scott started to manhandle him into the Jeep with hands that had already started to turn into claws. "Right now."

Stiles wasn't going to argue with him on that one and he fumbled to put the key in the ignition, his foot already to the floor as he screeched out of the carpark before Scott had even got his seatbelt on.

"What's going on Scott?" he demanded.

"I'm not entirely sure," answered Scott, staring out of the window as though he was prepared to leap out and start tearing out throats at any minute. Stiles really had to apologize for every bad thought about his bestest best friend in the whole wide world these past few days. "But Allison has a theory."

Of course she did.

"Of course she does."

Scott clearly decided that ignoring that comment was the best way to go, he always had been the smartest of the two of them. "She was talking to Lydia who apparently said that you smelled good recently, like really sex worthy good. And …" He looked nervous now and glanced over at Stiles.

"And what?" Stiles' fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Scott?"

"Apparently Jackson said the same thing."

"Oh no no no no no." Stiles shook his head in time with his no's. "You're not telling me that my smell is giving Jackson a wolfy boner?"

"Kind of."

Well that was suitably disgusting, and he really needed to get that mental image out of his head.

"And what about you? Why aren't you trying to jump me?"

"Well it could be because I'm already mated."

"Gross dude."

"Or …" He looked nervous again.

"Or what? You've got to stop keeping things from me."

"It could be because you've already been claimed," muttered Scott, turning to look back out of the window. "By another Alpha."

This was just getting ridiculous because Stiles couldn't remember any other werewolves attacking him in the streets except for today, but his eyes had been yellow not red and from what he knew Alpha's had to have red eyes.

"What other Alpha?" He glared over at Scott. "How many of you lot have done things to me when I haven't noticed."

Scott looked back at him then with wide eyes. "Surely you can't be that stupid."

"Well clearly I can." Stiles waved his left arm wildly. "Or maybe it's all the werewolf pheromones being pumped all over me."

"Ew dude no." Scott looked positively green. "Don't ever say that again."

"Well then what are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Like have you even noticed where we're going?"

It was then that he realized that he was driving towards the Hale house on instinct and that was something he didn't want to think too much about that. Suddenly a woman stumbled out of the woods, her eyes still glowing yellow and her face half turned. The most disturbing thing though was that she was clutching at her bloodied arm and limping, she watched them pass with a scowl on her face but she didn't give chase.

"What the hell?" Stiles put his foot on the accelerator. "What happened to her?"

"Apart from the sexy wolf smell you smell overwhelming of one thing." Scott stared ahead at the crumbling old mansion coming into view. "And it's not going to be happy."


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles hadn't been entirely sure what would happen when they finally got to the Hale house, but he hadn't been expecting Derek to be waiting for them on the front porch when they pulled up. He was a mess, not only was his hair a catastrophe but he was wearing a grey wife-beater that had been ripped in several places and splattered with blood. There was also three very deep looking slashes across his torso, the sight of which caused Stiles to scrambled with the door handle and stumble out of the Jeep.

"Stiles," growled Derek. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know." Stiles hurried up the stairs, car keys jingling in his hand as he did so. "I don't know man, Scott here says I'm like werewolf catnip or something …"

He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Derek had grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him forwards so that he once again collided with that solid chest. That blood covered solid chest.

"Ew ew ew." He flapped his arms around to try and get some leverage to push himself away. "You're bleeding all over me."

"I stopped bleeding before you even got here." Derek's mouth was so close to his ear that he only had to whisper the words for Stiles to hear them, that and he could literally feel them vibrate in the man's chest.

"Ok that's great." Stiles let his hands rest on Derek's shoulders. "You can let me go now."

Behind him he felt Scott shift and immediately a high pitched growl came out of the Alpha's throat, a noise that made Stiles freeze like a prey animal in the predator's clutches. He didn't even think he was breathing.

"Who has touched you?" demanded Derek.

Even though Stiles couldn't see his face from this angle, it was clear by the sound of his voice that Derek had started to wolf out again. Forcing himself to breathe through his nose, Stiles moved his right hand to gently cup the side of the werewolf's neck, his thumb gently caressing the soft skin behind his ear. Immediately Derek started to relax into his arms and the growl petered out into a whine.

"Let's get inside." Isaac's voice rose above the whine, and Stiles didn't think he could get more humiliated.

With a soft huff Derek loosened his grip on Stiles just enough to drag himself, pushing him up against the wall once the screen door had slammed behind them.

"I've really had enough of werewolves slamming me against things today," muttered Stiles.

"Who?" Derek gritted the word out.

"Some beta at school," answered Scott, and Derek's head whipped around to glare at him.

"What beta?"

"We don't know man." Derek's attention snapped back onto Stiles the moment he spoke.

"There's been beta's hanging around all day," said Isaac. "Derek's been chasing them into the woods for hours."

Well that explained the woman on the road with the bloodied arm.

"You." Derek shook him. "You've brought enemies onto my territory."

Stiles should not be finding Derek in full Alpha mode, with his red eyes and the streak of blood on his stubbled cheek so damn hot. He squirmed against the wall which made Derek just narrow his eyes at Stiles as though he knew what was going on in his head.

"Not intentionally."

Derek grunted at that before finally releasing Stiles, who immediately slumped against the wall and flashed a terrified looking Scott a small smile. The atmosphere in the hallway eased slightly when it didn't seem that Derek was going to kill him.

"Then why are they here?" he demanded.

"The one today in the carpark said he wanted to mate with me." Stiles couldn't help the shudder that accompanied that thought.

"He wanted to mate with you?" Derek's eyes were glowing red again when he glared at Stiles.

"That's what he said." Stiles folded his arms across his chest defensively. "Why is that so hard to believe."

"Oh man." Isaac ducked forwards then and grabbed Stiles' wrist and started dragging him towards the living room. "I think we're all going to want to sit down for this."

Surprisingly enough Derek let his young charge just pull Stiles from his grasp, and that wasn't a superpower that he had been aware Isaac possessed, though it was one that would come in handy at some point.

"He tried to bite Stiles," said Scott, moving to sit on the wide arm of the chair Stiles had settled himself in. "And it's probably obvious by now that he's scent marked him."

"Yes."

Derek was pacing the living room now, hands clenching and unclenching against his thickly muscled thighs looking for all the world like he was going to pounce at any second. Stiles got the sinking feeling that he was going to pounce on him.

"Why though?" asked Stiles.

Shrugging his shoulders Derek's pacing started taking on a whole new frantic pace until he suddenly stopped in the middle of the room.

"Get out," he growled, eyes flashing red as he glared at his betas. "You're going to want to leave this room."

Both Scott and Isaac scurried out as though their tails were on fire, Stiles started to scramble to his feet not wanting to be left alone with an angry Alpha werewolf, however strong hands tightened on his biceps as soon as he was out of the chair.

"Derek," he said. "Let me go man."

Derek must have been able to sense his fear because an unhappy whine came from his throat, and the next moment he was pressing his face into Stiles'. Immediately those annoying teenage boy hormones hit him like a truck, and Stiles found himself panting and clinging to Derek with an edge of desperation.

"I can't," whispered Derek, sucking what was going to be one hell of a hickey into the side of Stiles' neck just above his bite mark. "I hate this."

Stiles' heart fell at those words, though he had known in the back of his mind that Derek hadn't wanted to be a part of their 'moments' having confirmation was sickening. Not that he loved the guy or anything but it was nice to have someone take an interest in him.

Oh who was he fooling? He was totally head over heels for McBroodiness and this whole situation was going to end with him being heartbroken.

"Maybe we should ask Deaton?"

"Yes." Derek nodded, his stubble grating against Stiles' cheek. "Lets do that,"


	8. Chapter 8

"Well I knew you'd have to take a mate at some point Derek." Deaton patted the cocker spaniel he had just vaccinated a pat on the head. "But I had hoped it would be …"

"A werewolf right?" asked Scott, giving Stiles a nod of solidarity.

Not that it made Stiles feel any better, now that he didn't have six foot something of hot like burning werewolf pressed against him he was starting to feel foolish about this whole situation. There clearly had to be something else going on here, after all there would be no way that somebody like Derek Hale would take any kind of interest in Stiles Stilinski, especially sexually. Deaton would figure out what was wrong with Derek and break the curse or whatever it was and he would just go back to glaring at everyone. No, Stiles was destined to be a virgin for the rest of his life at this rate.

"Not necessarily," answered Deaton, glancing over at them. "Werewolves have been known to mate with humans and even other paranormal creatures in the past. No …" Here he paused and lowered a glare on Derek who was stood on the other side of the room with his arms folded and a scowl on his ridiculous face. "... legal was the word I was looking for."

Stiles squirmed uncomfortably at that. He had been trying not to think about that nor the implications for Derek if they were to be caught in a compromising position, and he knew his dad would make sure he was hit with the full force of the law. It made his stomach feel like lead and bile to rise up in his throat.

"What's happening to me?" he asked.

Deaton's attention immediately snapped to him and there must have been something in his tone because the older man's face immediately softened.

"Let's find out." He picked up the cocker spaniel and disappeared into the other room for a moment, before returning and patting the metal counter. "Up here please."

Without even looking at Scott and Derek, Stiles slowly nodded his head and hopped onto the counter.

"So has it just been the werewolves that have been acting strange?"

"Scott doesn't seem to be affected," he said.

Deaton made a noise in his throat. "Probably because he's already mated, or maybe because the two of you were so close anyway."

"So I'm not likely to all of a sudden …" Scott seemed to have issues choosing his words and Stiles couldn't help but smirk at that.

"Be overwhelmed by my masculine charms?" he asked.

At that Scott shuffled forwards and looked at him with big baleful eyes from beneath his floppy fringe. "You know that if I was into dudes, like at all, I'd have been boning you for years right? Like I'd have been all up on that epic manliness like powdered sugar on donuts."

"That might just be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, this is why you're my BFF."

Stiles held his fist out and Scott immediately gave him a fist bump before shuffling back to where he had been standing behind Deaton.

"Alright now that we have filled the air suitably with testosterone," Deaton glanced over at Derek, and Stiles followed his gaze and was met with the sight of a Derek who seemed to only just be holding himself together. "As much as that sentiment was lovely Scott, maybe next time don't talk about having sex with another Alpha's mate while said Alpha is in the room. I don't want a cat fight in the middle of my clinic."

"Can we stop this?" asked Stiles. "Can we stop werewolves all but humping my leg in the street?"

Deaton looked up at him in surprise at that. "Is that actually happening?"

"Maybe not humping but there's definitely licking going on." He pressed his hand against the side of his neck and watched as Deaton's eyes narrowed in response.

"Well that's a blatant challenge." He glanced over at Derek again. "You alright over there?"

"I scent marked him again." Derek's voice sounded strained. "I'm managing."

"So apart from being werewolf catnip anything else strange happened?" asked Deaton.

"He made a swamp monster explode," said Scott.

"You what?"

"I did not make a swamp monster explode." Stiles glared at Scott. "A swamp monster happened to explode while I was present."

"He made it explode," growled Derek. "I was there."

"So it's magic," said Deaton. "Werewolves have been known to be attracted by magic, though in this case they seem to also be attracted to the vessel containing the magic which is unusual. You haven't been casting any love spells have you?"

"What?" demanded Stiles. "Those actually exist?"

"Yes, and they're very dangerous. Technically if you had cast a love spell on one particular werewolf it may theoretically affect other werewolves."

It didn't take a genius to work out what he was trying to ask, and it didn't help the sick feeling in Stiles stomach.

"You want to know if I cast a love spell on Derek?" he whispered. "Not intentionally. Oh God what if I did this unintentionally? It was just a stupid little crush, you know I'm just a teenager and I can't help it when my hormones go insane over someone. I'm such an idiot, I should have known that he wouldn't …"

His sentence was cut off by the sob that welled up in his throat and he had to blink to stop the burning in his eyes. Panic was clutching at this throat and chest, making it difficult to breath and he heard Scott give a pained whine as he reacted to the negative emotions Stiles was probably throwing around. Distantly he was aware of Deaton holding out a hand in Derek's direction as though to tell him to stop moving, but he couldn't process any of it.

"Stiles it's alright," said Deaton. "Take some deep breaths."

Following Deaton's instruction he managed a single deep breath before the thought that he'd taken away all ability to consent away from Derek just … just like _her._ The panic slammed into him with such force that he jumped off the counter, shoved his shaking hands into his pockets and ran from the clinic. It took him three goes to get the Jeep unlocked and he dropped the keys twice trying to start the ignition, but he was finally able to pull out of the parking space in a screech of tyres and burning rubber. He didn't even register Scott trying to hold a struggling Derek back as they burst through the front doors of the clinic.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles had always heard that when you're in a car crash that time slowed down. He had never actually believed it himself until he lost control of his Jeep due to panic attack induced paralysis. To be honest he didn't know what was worse time slowing down so that he memorized every agonizing moment, or the crunch of steel as he hit the tree.

Then there was nothing except darkness until the pain hit. It was the kind of pain that took your breath away, and when Stiles tried to scream nothing but a wet gurgle rose up from his throat. That was not good, there was no way that a human being could make a sound like that and not be bleeding to death. Normally panic would overtake him but he felt like he was floating, seeing the entire event as though from a distance and the only thing he could think of was that his dad would be the first person on the scene.

It felt like he was laying there for hours with his breathing becoming more and more labored, the taste of copper filling his mouth, and the cold seeping into his limbs. Stiles knew he was dying. Hardly anyone ever came down this back road and in all honesty he didn't know what had possessed him to be out here. The sound of running footsteps brought his mind back to the present but he knew already that it was too late for him to be saved.

"Stiles." Scott's voice brought tears to his already burning eyes, and he couldn't help but be pleased that his best friend would be here with him at the end. "Oh God no, no, no."

He felt some of the metal being lifted off of him and a sudden burst of pain made his suck in a breath between his teeth, the air seemed to catch in his throat and he found himself coughing blood all over himself.

"Scotty." His voice was nothing more than a wet gurgle. "I'm sorry man."

"No." Scott shook his head, tears already running down his face and man did that hurt to see. "No you're going to be fine."

Stiles let out a pained groan. "You know I always hated that line in movies."

Scott was outright crying now and it took all of Stiles strength to reach for his hand and clutch it tightly.

"Oh Stiles, a car crash?" whispered Scott. "We kick ass ten times a day and you go and kill yourself in a car crash."

"Tell my dad …" His eyes drifted closed and he felt his lungs ached all of a sudden.

"No no Stiles." He felt Scott shaking him. "Tell your dad what?"

"Just that I love him." Stiles blinked the blood out of his eyes. "I never said it enough, and make sure he doesn't take up drinking again."

Behind them there was a screech of tyres and the sound of a car door slamming and the next thing Stiles knew Derek was falling heavily to his knees on the other side of him.

"Hey man," he whispered. "I guess this'll break the spell hey?"

When he looked up at the older man he had expected to see his usual impassiveness and in fact had welcomed it, what he hadn't been expecting was the pain and grief on his face. This was Derek Hale for God's sake he wasn't supposed to be all upset just because Stiles Stilinski was bleeding to death in front of him.

"Are you in any pain?" he asked.

"No." Stiles slowly shook his head. "You don't need to do the whole self sacrificing thing."

With that the two werewolves looked at each other and Stiles could just make out Scott shaking his head minutely and Derek growling in response.

"Stiles." Derek pressed the palm of his hand lightly against Stiles' cheek, gently moving his head so he could look into his eyes. "There's a way we can save you."

"No," hissed Scott. "He doesn't want that."

"What?" Stiles' voice was barely more than a whisper now. "Oh of course … werewolves."

Derek nodded his head and Stiles moved his head so that he was resting entire against the palm of his hand.

"Stiles?"

"Do it," he said. "Just do it."

"Derek do you want …?" started Scott.

"No," interrupted Derek. "You're his best friend, you're also a true alpha. Let's give it the best chance of taking."

Scott didn't even say anything the just rested his fingers lightly against Stiles' neck where the bruise for Derek's claiming bite was beginning to turn yellow. Then those gentle fingers took a hold of his chin and turned his head the other way.

"Not there," he said. "I'll turn you, though God knows I didn't want this for you man, but I won't break another alpha's claim. Not unless you want me to."

"No." Stiles hated that even now as his last breath loomed on the horizon he still wanted whatever piece of Derek that he could.

"Derek?" asked Scott.

"No … he's." Thick trembling fingers stroked through his hair. "He's …"

Scott seemed to find Derek stumbling over his words amusing because he smiled once and then Derek's fingers tightened in his hair and pulled his head back to expose Stiles' throat. The next thing he knew there was pain, a pain that drowned out everything else and distantly he could hear himself screaming.


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles woke up.

With what his last thoughts had been that was a surprise in itself, and for several long minutes he simply laid in a ridiculous soft bed and considered the fact that he was alive. That was until his nose was assaulted with more smells than he had ever experienced in his entire life. The first one that hit him was female with a strong flowery perfume, one of the expensive ones that he was often attacked with at the mall. It was familiar but his confused brain wasn't able to put the clues together. Beneath that was the smell of a male, there was something sickly about it and the scent of the sex the two of them had been having together made his stomach roil.

"Oh so you're awake."

Lydia's voice cut into his thinking, and he slowly blinked open his eyes to find her sat on the edge of the enormous bed holding a glass of water. At the sight of her Stiles was able to put two and two together, he was in Lydia Martin's bed and from the feel of it he was naked. It was like all his teenage sex dreams were coming true.

"What happened?" he croaked out, struggling into a sitting position and then clutching the quilt to his chest when he realized that he was naked in front of Lydia Martin.

"Car accident, or so Scott told me," she answered. "When he and Derek brought you in I thought you were …" She swallowed thickly then and blinked back tears. "Don't you ever do anything like that again."

There was something about Lydia being upset that he nearly died that made it all hit home and the pain and fear from the night before came crashing down over him.

"I'm alive!" He dropped the quilt to stare at his chest which he had been sure had been all but shredded by the impact into the tree and then, ignoring the fact that Lydia was right there he peaked beneath the sheets to make sure everything was accounted for. "It took then?"

She nodded slowly. "It seems that way, Scott said he couldn't smell anything over your blood and Derek just wasn't talking."

"Why am I here?" he asked.

Lydia flicked her hair and then a sad expression came over her gorgeous face. "My parents are in Aspen."

Oh she was home alone, which explained the strong smell of both Jackson and sex in her bed.

"Where are they?"

"Cleaning up the crash from what I understand," answered Lydia. "Scott's reported your jeep as stolen and Derek's going to kill a couple of deer and put them in the road to make it look like the thief hit them."

"My car." Stiles tears coming to his eyes again and he angrily swiped at them with the back of his hand. "It's a write off."

"At least you're alive."

"I shouldn't be," he whispered.

"There's something odd going on between Scott and Derek," said Lydia. "When they dropped you off Derek was refusing to touch you and Scott was getting more and more frustrated at him. I thought the two of them were going to end up in a fight in my living room."

"Scott turned me." Stiles reached for the glass of water which Lydia silently handed to him. "Which might have changed how Derek views me." There was of course the other possibility. "Or me becoming a werewolf has broken whatever spell I had over him, and now he hates me."

"Oh I don't think he hates you, Stiles you should have seen the way he was looking at you when he thought you were going to die."

 _Yeah,_ thought Stile. _He's probably just wanting to make sure I live so he can kill me himself._

"Either way I'm sure this ..." He pressed his hand against the side of his neck where he was sure the claiming bite Derek had given him just days before was now completely healed. "Is gone and forgotten."

It was then that he noticed that Lydia was staring at him with wide eyes. "Stiles." With that she reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out a compact. "I was wondering what that was."

"What what was?" He grabbed the compact off of her and quickly opened it so he could hold it up. "Oh my God."

Reflected in the tiny mirror was the perfect half moon of Derek's teeth in his neck surrounded by what look like an even darker bruise than before the crash. With his hand shaking so much that he could barely hold the compact up, Stiles moved it so that the other side of his neck was reflected and there was nothing there. It was almost as though Scott hadn't bitten him at all.

"What does that mean?" asked Lydia.

"I don't know." He handed her back the compact. "Derek didn't bite me after I was turned?"

"Not that I saw." She fiddled with the compact in her lap, running her fingers along the hinge. "And that's not all. Stiles there's something going on around you, I first noticed it that night after the swamp monster but it's even stronger now."

"Lydia not you to." He let his head fall into his hands. "I didn't do anything that night."

"Well I don't know about that I wasn't there," she answered. "Though Derek swears you did."

"I think Derek's not exactly thinking straight right now."

"Stiles it's like all the energy in the room is being drawn to you," whispered Lydia. "It's like you give everyone an electric shock."

Stiles didn't even get to answer that because at that moment another smell hit him. Wolf and not Pack, something inside of him growled in response to there being an unknown wolf on Scott's territory. He didn't even get the chance to analyze the fact that he was thinking of Beacon Hills as Scott's territory and not Derek's before there was a pounding on the front door downstairs.

"Lydia," he said. "Don't answer that, we need to find a way out of here right now."


	11. Chapter 11

"Are we surrounded?" demanded Lydia, dragging Stiles by his wrist down the hallway while he struggled to get into a pair of her dad's trackpants.

"I don't know," he answered. "I don't exactly have control of my senses yet."

The noise Lydia made could only be described as a growl, and for a moment he wondered whether Derek had bit her at some point. For some reason that made hot jealousy well up in him, and he had to physically restrain himself from attacking her.

"Yeah." She turned around to look at him as the reached the window at the end of the landing. "I can see that."

There was something about how her face had paled the moment she had turned around and her eyes had widened in shock. "What's wrong?"

"Your face," she whispered. "You're going all wolfish."

He really didn't need this right now, not only was there at least one rogue werewolf trying to rip the front door down to get to him but now he had to try and run for it through Beacon's Hill all furry.

"This can't be happening." Stiles pressed his hands against his cheeks and tried desperately to calm the frantic beating of his heart.

"Well it is," said Lydia, pushing open the window. "And we need to get out of here."

Stiles watched as she stepped out of the window and onto the roof, at that moment Allison's car came screeching up the drive and hadn't even stopped before she was firing bolts out of the window. Two werewolves went down immediately, they had both been at the front door together which is why he hadn't been able to distinguish their scents. It also looked like they had been working together which was terrifying in itself.

"Get in!" yelled Allison, and another bolt whizzed past Stiles' head and he winced at the crunch as it hit bone and the wolf's agonized howl.

They clambered down the side of the house, Allison grabbing Lydia the moment her feet hit the ground and pushed her into the car.

"Allison what's happening?" he demanded as he jumped into the backseat and slammed the door closed.

"It seems you're attracting werewolves from all over California," she answered. "I need to get you into the Preserve, Scott and Derek have been scenting a territory out. They're hoping the scent of two Alpha's will be enough to keep them away."

"And if it's not?" asked Lydia.

Allison didn't answer her and instead put her foot to the accelerator and they sped out of the Martin's drive so fast that there was bound to be tyre marks.

"Then I become some other Alpha's sex toy."

It was something he had been trying not to think about since he had discovered that strange wolves were showing up demanding that he mate with them. But now him being turned seemed to have set everything off even more, and Stiles got the feeling that this was only the tip of the iceberg.

"You are not going to be some other Alpha's sex toy," said Allison. "Plus you've got bigger relationship issues than that right now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Turns out that Derek thinks that with Scott having turned you that you belong to Scott now." Allison waved her hand around. "In every way."

"What?" He sat forwards and grabbed the back of her seat. "I'm not fucking Scott, I swear Allison."

She turned in her seat and rolled her eyes at him. "I know that Stiles." She turned back to the road. "Not that I'd mind sharing … you know …"

Beside him Lydia snorted and then coughed to try and cover it up.

"Oh just great, I'm being invited into a threesome with two of the hottest people on the planet and it's doing absolutely nothing for me." He gently touched the tips of his fingers to the teeth marks in his neck. "This thing is becoming a menace"

"He's always been a menace," said Lydia. "But a hot menace."

"So hot," muttered Allison. "Like smoking hot."

"You're not making me feel better here." Stiles sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

"Werewolves," said Allison.

"I know right?" Lydia was putting on lipstick of all things as they were being chased through Beacon Hills. "They get so jealous."

"I am not jealous."

The moment they entered the Preserve the combined scents of Scott and Derek hit him, and he felt himself immediately calm. Allison pulled the car off the road and straight into a clearing, already climbing out almost before the car had even stopped moving.

"Are we still being pursued?" she demanded as Scott lept off the rock he had been seated on.

"No," answered Scott, pulling her into a hug. "Not that I can tell."

He let go of Allison and strode quickly to Stiles. For what felt like an eternity they simply stood there looking at each other before Scott reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace, immediately pressing his face into the side of Stiles' neck he had bitten.

"Scott I hate this," he whispered.

Scott pulled back from him then his eyes momentarily flashing red before he made a soft whining sound.

"I know," he said. "We'll do this together."

He held out his fist and Stiles couldn't help but smile and bump it with his own.

"Where's …" He could smell Derek, a strong Earthy scent almost like the smell of the first rain in Fall.

"Patrolling," said Scott. "He feels uncomfortable being here. It seems that with me turning you and not breaking his claim I've made things really really complicated."

"I asked you not to break it."

"I know." Scott reached out and pressed his hand against the side of Stiles' neck in a move that slowed his heart rate and staved off the panic that had been rising. "And you know I wouldn't do something like that to you man. But from what I understand it's now made things really complicated, you're my Pack now because I turned you which is a given. Derek though he's not in my Pack, and he seems to think that he can't be mated …" Scott stumbled over the word. "... to someone in another Pack."

"Well that's ridiculous I'm sure there have been interpack matings before or else werewolves would be all inbred and stuff," said Stiles.

"Like they aren't anyway," said Lydia from where she was standing beside Allison.

"He doesn't think he's worthy." Stiles jumped when Boyd suddenly appeared out of the bushes beside him, and he glared at the other man.

"How come I didn't hear or smell you coming?"

Boyd gave him a slow smile. "You're all but encased in the smell of your Alpha and your mate here, I'm surprised you're not rolling around on the ground right now."

"What do you mean not worthy?" demanded Stiles.

"Scott is a true Alpha, with a stable territory, and now he's getting himself a stable Pack of people he cares deeply about," answered Boyd. "Derek well he's just a Beta really, he doesn't want to be Alpha and now he feels like he's lost you because of that and he has nothing to give to you that is better than what you have."

At that moment a howl rose in the air … its was long and mournful in its beauty. Something inside Stiles knew instinctively that it was Erica, but it was the pain filled and angry howl which was louder than that of the Beta that had Stiles trying to pull out of Scott's grasp.

Derek was hurt.

He felt himself start to shift, but was pushed into Lydia's arms by Scott. "No you don't know how to control the shift yet, and we don't need you going feral right now."

With that he and Boyd took off into the trees, and Stiles could hear and smell Isaac and Jackson as they took off in pursuit of the Alpha.

"Stiles …"

He didn't need to ask her what Lydia was sensing because he felt it as well, it felt like a wave of power was coming over him. Stealing his breath and making his every muscle lock up as he stared at the ground to where long tendrils of blue light were coming from the Earth and moving up his legs and arms. Rather than the wolf inside him fighting this power it seemed to be content to sit back and ride this one out, and it was in that moment Stiles knew exactly what he had to do.

His mate was in danger.


	12. Chapter 12

The next ten minutes or so were simply a blur to Stiles. However the way Scott told it was that he suddenly appeared in the middle of the clearing where Derek had been taken down by four of the Alpha's working together. Except he hadn't been in human form at the time, oh no, Stiles had somehow transported himself nearly a mile away in the form of a small white wolf with glowing blue eyes.

It was then that things got really strange.

Stiles could vaguely remember shifting back into human form and walking up to the Alpha that had Derek pinned, pressing his palm to the Alpha's forehead. For a moment time had stood still and then Stiles had felt the power surge through him and the Alpha had dropped as though his strings had been cut.

That had been when the other Alpha's had fled.

If anyone ever says that Stiles fainted at that point, then they're wrong.

He came to with the smell of Derek settled over him like a blanket, and he blinked open his eyes to see that his head was resting on the Alpha's thigh. Scott was crouched in front of him with his eyes glowing red, and Stiles curled himself into a ball as he sensed the tension in the air.

"What happened?" he asked.

Derek's fingers lightly touched his bite mark and endorphins flooded Stiles' system and he nuzzled against the man's hand.

"You were amazing." Erica's voice cut through the tension. "You killed that Alpha by just touching him."

"How did you do that?" asked Scott, he reached out to Stiles but Derek's growl stilled his hand.

"I don't know."

Something inside him felt like it was being pulled in two different directions, he wanted to wallow in Derek's embrace but at the same time he wanted to crawl to his Alpha for comfort. It was enough to drive him insane.

At that moment the sound of his cell phone ringing filled the otherwise silent clearing and he forced himself into a sitting position and scrabbled in his pocket for his phone. Looking at the name on the screen he winced when he saw that it was his dad. Taking a deep breath he pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

"Hey dad."

" _Oh thank God_." His dad sounded frantic. " _We found your car, what the hell happened?"_

It took him a moment to remember the cover story.

"I've only just looked outside, it must have been stolen dad."

He looked up at Scott who nodded his head.

" _Looks like whoever stole it hit a couple of deer on the back road headed towards the Preserve."_

"It's wrecked?" He made sure that he sounded suitably shocked and horrified. "Aw dad not my Jeep."

" _Well I'm just glad you're still alive,"_ said his dad. " _We'll talk when I get home OK?"_

"Ok dad."

There was a long pause.

" _That Hale boy isn't there is he?"_

"What? No dad I'm alone."

" _Because … I … urgh … there's supplies under the bathroom sink."_

Scott snickered at that and Stiles glared at him. "Oh my God dad. No. Just no we're not talking about this."

He disconnected the call and looked up, it was then he remembered that he was surrounded by werewolves all of whom had just overheard that.

"Shut up all of you," he said.

With that he got to his feet and stared down at the dead Alpha who was laying only a few feet away from them. It was a man, probably around Derek's age, with blonde hair and pale skin. He looked like he was sleeping on the leaf litter, and Stiles felt a whine rise up in his throat.

"Stiles." Lydia stepped out of the shadows to his left. "I didn't feel it happen, I didn't feel him die."

"What does that even mean?" He looked around the clearing at everyone before raising his voice. "What does that even mean?"

"We don't know," said Boyd.

"I just want to go home." It was then that the cold finally hit him and he realized that he was standing in the middle of the Preserve in nothing but a pair of Lydia's dad's trackpants. "It's fucking freezing out here."

From behind him Derek made a soft noise and the next thing he knew the heavy weight of his leather jacket settled on his shoulders. It was skin warmed and smelled strongly of Derek, and Stiles couldn't help the way he dragged it closer wrapped it tightly around him.

"Ok," said Scott. "I'm going to do another round to make sure there's nobody hanging around." He looked at Derek. "Can I borrow your beta's?"

Derek seemed surprised that Scott would even ask and he nodded before turning to Erica and Boyd. "Go with him."

Without even answering the beta's took off after Scott into the woods.

"Do you need a ride home Stiles?" asked Allison, clipping her crossbow onto its holder. "I'm taking Lydia out that way."

"I've got him." Derek's heavy hand landed on the back of Stiles' neck. "We need to talk."

Something about the tone of his voice made Stiles' stomach turn to lead. "Oh great."

"Have fun." Lydia winked at him and Allison was smirking.

"Oh fuck off," he answered flipping them off.

Derek's hand tightened on the back of his neck, and the next thing Stiles' knew he was being guided out of the Preserve with more force than was strictly necessary. Not a single word was spoken between them until Derek had pushed him into the passenger seat of his car.

"You will tell me what's going on," he said, slamming the drivers side door closed and looking over at Stiles. "Right now."

"I don't know what's going on." Stiles threw up his hands. "Plus you're not the boss of me."

"No I'm not I'm your …" Derek's paused and turned to glare out of the windscreen before turning on the ignition.

"I'm your what?" demanded Stiles. "Because I'm getting sick of you dancing around this, whatever this is that's happening between us."

"You're seventeen." Derek's voice sounded like it was dragged over broken glass. "There is nothing going on between us."

"So that's the problem? It's my age?" He reached out an uncertain hand to touch the bare skin of Derek's forearm. "Because I'm going to be eighteen in a year, I'm sure nobody will care."

"You're Scott's now anyway." Derek pulled his arm out of Stiles' grip. "I have no claim."

"Well I've still got your teeth marks in my neck so I think that's a load of crap." He tilted his head so that Derek could clearly see the mark. "And as much as I hate being treated like someone's property, we both know you have a claim."

"It's not like that," said Derek. "With true mates both parties bite each other and it's a mutual claim, they belong to each other."

"So you want me to bite you?" Stiles reached over again and pressed the tips of his fingers gently against Derek's pulse point, the rough scratch of his stubble making his heart jolt. "Is that's what's wrong."

Derek's eyes widened at that and he turned completely in his seat to stare at him, his hand coming up to grip Stiles' wrist and slowly lower it. "No, I don't want you to do anything you don't want."

"How do you know I don't want it?" he asked. "You haven't even asked me."

"Because you don't know what it means!" yelled Derek. "You've been a werewolf for all of five minutes, you have no clue what it means to be mated or to have a bond."

"But werewolves can be mated with humans, like Scott and Allison," said Stiles. "Are you telling me that Allison understands?"

"It was different when you were human." Derek faced forwards again and gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white. "Yes your age was a problem." He closed his eyes. "There were issues that could be overcome with time. Now … now we're stuck."

"Because of Scott?"

"It was the only way to save you." Derek shrugged. "Better for you to be alive and the bond severed than for you to be dead."

"But the bond wasn't severed."

"No." Ground out Derek. "And now I have to deal with wanting to be mated to another Alpha's beta."

"But surely it's happened …"

"Yes, but not like this Stiles you don't understand."

"Because you're not telling me!" Now Stiles was yelling and Derek turned to glare at him.

"You don't need to know," he said. "It's not something you need to worry about right now."

Dragging his fingers through his hair Stiles felt like screaming. "I want you." He looked up to see Derek's mouth drop open. "It's the only thing I do know right now. My whole world has just turned upside down, I don't know what's happening and I don't even know who I am, but I know that I want you."

"Stiles …"

"And I know you want me too."


	13. Chapter 13

"What I want doesn't matter," whispered Derek.

"Now I know that is bullshit." Stiles folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. "You just think what you want doesn't matter, or Boyd said as much."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "What did he say?"

"That you didn't feel like you were worthy," answered Stiles. "Of a mate or a Pack, he wasn't exactly forthcoming."

"I'm not an Alpha." Derek glanced over at him, shaking his head when Stiles opened his mouth to complain. "I'm not, not really. I was born a beta and I was quite low in my mother's Pack, and then when Laura became Alpha she took me on as her beta. I'm not suited to being an Alpha."

"Which is why you made Scott turn me?"

"Yes," said Derek.

It made sense in a way, even though Derek had been a ginormous douche when they had first met him he had seemed supremely confident in himself and in his skin. However after killing Peter, the first time, and becoming Alpha himself Derek had become more and more introverted.

"Can beta's take mates?"

Something inside him was supremely uncomfortable about the idea that if Derek hadn't have killed his uncle he would never have found Stiles attractive, and he had to curl his fists into his thighs.

"Of course," answered Derek. "We're not actual wolves you know?"

"That's good."

He looked up then to see that Derek was staring at him with what could only be described as dread. "You're thinking about taking a mate?"

"No, not like I could anyway since I'm mated to you."

"Scott could break …"

"No." Stiles cut him off. "If you want this gone you break it."

He lifted his chin defiantly, and for a long moment they simply stared at each other before Derek closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No," he muttered. "I don't want to break it."

Stiles didn't know what possessed him to do what he did, but the next thing he knew he had climbed over the centre console and moved to straddle Derek's thighs. The steering wheel was digging into his back and he had to brace his hand against the leather seat above Derek's shoulders but there was something about the surprise in those light grey eyes that made his wolf sit up and preen.

"Then don't," he whispered.

He leaned down then and gently pressed his lips against the other man's. Even though he was now a werewolf Derek, whether Alpha or not, was far stronger than he was and Stiles could still find himself thrown through the windscreen if he was rejected. And then Derek would be really pissed off if there was a Stiles sized hole in his car.

Fortunately Derek chose to pull Stiles closer by his hips and opened his mouth with a soft moan. The kiss deepened but stayed achingly gentle and cautious, something which caused Stiles to whimper and try to wiggle even closer. They kissed for what felt to Stiles like hours, the slide of their mouths becoming more and more heated as Derek sat up straighter in his seat. One of his large hands slipped up the back of the leather jacket and braced against the bare skin at the small of his back. It felt like he had been shocked with electricity and Stiles couldn't help the way his hips bucked forwards into Derek's overwhelming heat.

"Fuck,"murmured Derek, pulling away from the kiss only to press his lips against Stiles throat. "What you do to me …"

Stiles couldn't even answer that, instead he tipped his head back in what he knew was a submissive pose, and simply whined low in his throat. Derek made a soft animalist noise in response and sucked a mark into the side of his neck that Scott had bitten, Stiles got the feeling that it was some sort of challenge to the other Alpha. Not that Scott would do anything about it, well other than tease him incessantly anyway.

Soon they were kissing again, the sound of it filling the car along with the harsh breathing as the windows fogged up and the air become hot a clammy between them. Stiles was so caught up in the moment that when Derek pressed the heel of his free hand against where Stiles' erection was pushing against the worn fabric of the trackpants. God he really hoped Lydia's dad wasn't going to want these back because with the way that Derek was caressing him there was no way he was going to last very long at all.

"Derek." He moaned against the other man's mouth. "I'm …"

Derek kissed him with even more passion then and Stiles couldn't stop his hips rocking desperately. It was just as he felt his orgasm start to rise up from his belly, every muscle locking up in anticipation, that there was a knock on the window right beside their heads.

It only took a minute for the fog to thin in Stiles' mind and the scent of his own father to filter through to him. Derek must have noticed as well because his eyes widened and he pressed his fingers against his swollen lips, and that just shouldn't be as hot as it was. Taking a deep breath he swallowed down the lump in his throat and leaned over to press the button that would put down the drivers side window.

His dad was stood in his uniform, torch in hand, and a knowing but disappointed look on his face.

"How did I guess?" he demanded.

"Hey dad." Stiles raised a hand from Derek's shoulder and waved. "Nice night isn't it?"

"Get out of the car Stiles."

He really really didn't want to do that since even having his dad interrupt them at the worst possible moment hadn't abated his hardon, and the idea of standing in front of his dad at full mast was humiliating at best.

"Um I don't think you want that right now dad," he said.

A flush came to his dad's face. "You're wearing pants aren't you?"

"Yes dad I'm wearing pants."

He felt Derek nod and his dad's eyes narrowed in his direction. "Are you both wearing pants?"

"Everyone has pants on," said Derek. "Sir."

"Get out of the car."

Taking a deep breath Stiles opened the door and slowly climbed out, wrapping the leather jacket tighter around himself against the cold.

"Dad …" Stiles stepped aside to let Derek out of the car. "This is exactly what it looks like."

Behind him Derek groaned. "Stiles."

"Well at least you're honest with me," said his dad. "Now I said I could live with you two …" He waved his torch around as though to try and convey what he didn't want to say. "... but at home where I know you're being safe."

"Oh god dad." Stiles buried his face in his hands. "Derek isn't going to get me pregnant."

"Ok I really didn't need to know your sexual dynamics," muttered his dad.

Derek made a noise behind him like he was dying. "Sir?"

"Go home Derek." Stiles' dad pointed at the car. "And I think we're all going to need to sit down and have a talk in the next few days." He turned to Stiles. "Get in the cruiser."

Stiles nodded his head and stepped away from Derek, immediately missing the heat he radiated, and moved towards the cruiser. After a moment though he turned and hurried back to where Derek was trying to get into his car without turning his back on Stiles' dad as though he expected to be shot in the back. Without saying a single word he reached up and fisted his hand in the Alpha's hair, trying not to wince at the copious amount of product that immediately coated his hand. With a soft noise he pulled his mate's head down and took those surprisingly lush lips in a deep kiss before turning around and striding to the cruiser and climbing into the front seat.

A few minutes later his dad slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

"Just how serious is this?" he asked.

"You saw …"

"How serious Stiles?"

Stiles looked down at where his hands were resting in his lap and starting picking the dirt from under his fingernails. "Serious enough."

"Do you love him?"


End file.
